Pure
by royalwatson
Summary: Harry Potter is terrified of food. Draco Malfoy is terrified for his life. An unlikely friendship forms when the 2 come together to save each other.


6th year AU! Everything that's happened in the previous years still stands. I originally posted this on ao3, but decided to post on here as well! There are currently more chapters uploaded on there so feel free to continue reading on ao3 until I upload the rest here. Please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors and enjoy :)

oOoOoOoOoOo

Harry ignored the pounding in his head and blearily opened his eyes to see the harsh white ceiling of the infirmary. _Bloody hell._ What had he done this time? Quidditch accident? He looked down at himself and sighed. No, he was still in his school robes. He lifted a hand to gently touch the side of his head. _Ouch._ Did he run into a wall? It wouldn't have been the first time Harry had run into inanimate objects. Groaning, he tried to ease himself up into a sitting position as he heard a set of feet rush over to his side.

"Mister Potter. How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she stood over him, frantically waving her wand over his body casting various spells.

"I'm fine I think. My heads pounding though," Harry grunted out as he reached over to his bedside table trying to grab his glasses.

"Yes, well you took quite a fall. You're lucky Mister Malfoy was there to catch you before you hit the floor too hard." At that Harry sat up even straighter, noticing for the first time the tall and lanky, blond haired boy standing awkwardly behind Madam Pomfrey looking firmly down at the ground.

"Malfoy?" Harry spluttered out, surprise and bewilderment evident in his tone. He opened his mouth to say more when the blond hastily spoke.

" _Yes,_ Potter," Draco sneered. "Congratulations. Despite hitting your abnormally large head on the floor, you still seem to be able to remember my name."

Harry glared at Malfoy.

Of course the light haired Slytherin was still a prat. He didn't know why he expected this year to be any different. Sure, maybe Malfoy had come back from the summer looking less pointy and more _sharp-and-well-defined-angles,_ but he was still as big as a twat as he'd always been. And yeah, maybe Harry had found himself gazing at the boy with more admiration and less hatred, but he could hardly be blamed. He had just recently realized his preference towards the same gender and he figured it was only natural to be curious. _And_ it was satisfying to finally know just why he had seemed to be so interested in Cedric Diggory back in 4th year.

He turned to the mediwitch and frowned. "What happened?" He asked, wincing as he tenderly touched the side of his head again.

"Well…." Madam Pomfrey trailed off looking at Draco.

Harry shifted his gaze to see Malfoy roll his eyes before sighing. "I don't know either," he snapped. "One minute you were chopping up wormwood — quite horribly I might add — and the next minute you were falling. Couldn't handle the pressure of brewing a new potion, Potter? I'm so sorry that I gave the Golden Boy the horrible task of cutting up a _plant,"_ Malfoy sneered and lifted his chin in the air in disgust. "If I was paired up with a partner who actually had a brain, I wouldn't be missing valuable class time stuck in the infirmary with a helpless oaf."

Harry scowled. "Then _leave,_ Malfoy. No one's asked you to stay here." _I didn't actually mean that. You may be an annoying wanker, but you're an attractive, annoying wanker. Please stay with me until I feel better… or at least until Ron and Hermione get here. Where are they anyways? Surely they would've heard of this by now?_ Harry stopped his musing as he saw Malfoy turn towards the door as if to leave. He soon pivoted on his heel however and faced Harry as he crossed his arms.

"I do what I want, Potter." He paused for a moment, scrunching his nose up in distaste before adding, "You insufferable git." His steely, grey eyes bore holes into Harry's.

"Boys!" Madam Pomfrey huffed out.

Draco rolled his eyes again and made a great effort of adjusting his green and silver tie, looking at anything but Harry.

Harry mumbled out an insincere "sorry," and thought back to their Potions class. He remembered feeling ill when he had caught the scent of the new potion they were brewing. Fame Remedium. The hunger cure potion. It was meant to be given to homeless witches and wizards — curing them of their hunger for 24 hours. The potion smelled differently to each individual depending on what their favorite foods were. Harry had smelled the unbearably sweet scent of Treacle Tart and had immediately felt like vomiting.

"I've done many tests on you Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, shaking Harry out of his thoughts. "And you seem to be fine albeit a bit thin." Pomfrey frowned and Malfoy sniggered into his hand. Harry cast him a half-hearted glare and spoke to the witch.

"I've just been stressed about the NEWTS. Been studying in my spare time." He shrugged and started fiddling with a stray piece of thread hanging off his blanket.

Madam Pomfrey sounded incredulous. "The NEWTS? You're only a 6th year!" Harry peered up at her and grinned sheepishly.

"I've got Hermione as one of my best mates. And you know how she is…" He trailed off and Madam Pomfrey nodded in understanding.

"Yes well I suppose it is good to get an early start. I'm sure Dumbledore will be quite proud Mister Potter."

Malfoy scoffed and crossed his arms. "Oh I'm sure Dumbledaft will be positively _beaming_ when he hears what his favorite Gryffindork has been up to in his free time." A look of disdain made its way onto the blonds face.

"Mister Malfoy!" Pomfrey turned and clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly. "I would hope a fine young man like yourself would know to treat his elders with respect."

Malfoy shrugged and looked away as he mumbled under his breath. "Sorry. _Headmaster_ Dumbledaft."

Despite wanting to feel indignant on the headmaster's behalf, Harry couldn't stop his face from twisting into an unwanted grin as he overheard the snarky blonde's quiet jest. He let out a small snort and quickly darted his eyes away as Malfoy whipped his head up at the sound.

"As I was saying before, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey continued, annoyance lacing her tone. "You can be released after dinner."

"Dinner?" Harry frowned at her in confusion. "Er... If you said everything was fine, can't I leave before then?"

"I can deal with the headache," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm afraid not. I would like you to eat in here tonight. As good as it is that you are focusing on your NEWTS, a growing boy like yourself must get the proper nutrients." Harry froze for a minute, a panicked expression flashing across his face before he attempted to school his features back into a nonchalant expression.

"Can't I just eat in the Great Hall?" He questioned, shifting uncomfortably under the cool, scrutinizing gaze of Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey's face twitched in barely concealed amusement as she accio-ed a small vial to her hand. "You can sit with your housemates tomorrow. It's just for tonight. I'm sure Mister Weasley and Miss Granger can handle a night without you."

Harry nodded in defeat and sighed. He knew it was no use arguing with the witch. _It's just for tonight_. He can get through one bloody night eating a proper meal. And then he can rush to the safety of Gryffindor Tower and punish himself to his heart's content. Harry let out another breath and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"Drink this. It'll ease the ache in your head and lull you to sleep. I'll wake you in time for dinner." She handed the glass vial to Harry and he reluctantly threw his head back, drinking it in one go. He shuddered and passed the glass back to the witch.

"Thank you," he mumbled before slowly relaxing against the bed. He took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table before drawing the covers up to his chin and shutting his eyes.

"Oh!" Madam Pomfrey's surprised voice rang through the empty infirmary and Harry shot his eyes open, craning his neck around to look at the witch.

"Mister Malfoy. I didn't realize you were still here. You can go back to class and let Professor Snape know of Mister Potter's situation." He briefly made eye contact with the blonde, heart hammering in his chest the whole while, and watched as Madam Pomfrey shooed Malfoy out the door before turning back to head into her office.

Relaxing back against the bed, Harry rest his head against the pillows and exhaled. He closed his eyes and shifted under the blankets, allowing the potion to slowly succumb him to sleep.

"I'm afraid not. I would like you to eat in here tonight. As good as it is that you are focusing on your NEWTS, a growing boy like yourself must get the proper nutrients."

Draco saw panic flick across the dark haired boy's features as he visibly stiffened before trying to regain composure.

"Can't I just eat in the Great Hall?"

Draco's eyes narrowed as he peered at Harry who shifted uncomfortably under his cool gaze. What was wrong with the prat? He looked like the Dark Lord himself had invited Potter to eat dinner with him. He studied him carefully, studiously examining his small and thin figure.

Draco frowned.

The scarhead looked thinner than usual. He was practically swimming in his school robes. Why did the oh so mighty Chosen One look so... fragile? He stored this information to the back of his brain to be thoroughly investigated later. Oh, Pansy was going to go barmy over this. She always complained about how unfair it was that Potter seemed to lose weight without even trying.

" _You know Pans, for someone who hates him so much, you sure do spend a massive amount of time talking about him."_ _Draco smiled over his goblet of pumpkin juice and raised his eyebrows suggestively._ " _Are you sure you don't fancy him? I can see the headline on the Daily Prophet now. Golden Boy and Slytherin's Princess do the dirty."_ _His eyes widened in surprise and he let out a small yelp as a silver fork barreled over his head. He heard Blaise let out a snort of laughter._

" _Really Draco? You're one to talk,"_ h _e drawled._ " _You've been obsessed with him since first year. Though I can see why._ " _He twisted around to look at the Gryffindor table. Draco followed his gaze and saw Potter flailing his fork around as he talked avidly to the sea of Weasley's that flooded the Gryffindor table. Draco narrowed his eyes and huffed in annoyance before shifting his attention back to Blaise, who was still looking thoughtfully at Harry._

" _He is pretty cute... in a messy, boyish way,_ " _Blaise continued. Now it was Blaise's turn to duck as Draco hurled his half full goblet at him._ " _Ooh, jealous are we?_ " _He and Pansy let out a bark of laughter at Draco's half horrified, half mortified expression._

" _Absolutely not._ " Draco _sniffed as he reached for Pansy's pumpkin juice._ " _You can have him if you want Zabini."_

 _Blaise rose his eyebrows in mock surprise._ " _I didn't know you and Potter were into that. Threesomes? Kinky._ "

 _Draco choked on his drink and glowered at Blaise._

" _Kindly piss off,"_ _he mumbled, feeling the flush rising to his cheeks. He took one last swig of juice to cool his rapidly warming face before reaching down for his book bag. He tossed it over one shoulder as he gracefully got up out of his seat and made a beeline to the doors of the Great Hall before Pansy or Blaise could make any more ludicrous jokes about his 'Potter Obsession' as they liked to call it._

" _Have fun shagging your boyfriend, Draco! Thanks for the offer, but I'm more of a one bloke at a time sort of guy."_

 _He quickened his pace and threw open the doors with a big bang. He heard the loud cackles of Pansy, Blaise and even Crabbe and Goyle following him as he made his way down the corridor._

 _Bloody hell._

 _Ever since Blaise had come out to him and their fellow Slytherins, he'd been making all sorts of lewd jokes. Draco leaned against the wall, raised a shaky hand to his face, and gripped his cheeks, desperately hoping for the blush to go down. Fuck Pansy. Fuck Blaise. Fuck Potter! Draco's eyes widened as he felt the all too familiar rush of blood heading down towards his groin. On second thought, no, don't fuck potter. Bad idea, Draco. He groaned in frustration and hastily headed down to the dungeons, thanking Merlin that the rest of the 6th year boys were still enjoying their lunch. He would have the dorms to himself._

"You can sit with your housemates tomorrow."

He was quickly shaken out of his reverie and flushed as he heard the sound of Pomfrey's voice.

"It's just for tonight. I'm sure Mister Weasley and Miss Granger can handle a night without you."

Draco let out a quiet scoff. Potter, the weasel, and the mudblood were all joined at the hip. Not seeing the twit in the Great Hall would probably panic the idiots.

He rolled his eyes for what seemed like the 10th time that day and drew his attention back to Potter, who was currently handing a small vial back to Pomfrey.

"Thank you," the dark haired boy muttered before attempting to get comfortable in the hospital bed.

"Oh!" Madam Pomfrey's surprised voice rang through the empty infirmary and Draco tore his eyes away from Potter's back to gaze coolly at the witch. "Mister Malfoy. I didn't realize you were still here. You can go back to class and let Professor Snape know of Mister Potter's situation." He cast one more glance at Harry who was now staring at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes before Draco spun around and headed out the infirmary doors.

"Mister Potter?"

Harry groggily blinked his eyes open as he tried to remember where he was. He met the soft gaze of Madam Pomfrey and sighed as memories came rushing back.

Oh. The infirmary. Right.

He turned over and sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses and putting them on as the witch handed him a silver tray filled with food.

"There you go dear. Eat that and you'll be good to go!" She smiled cheerfully as Harry sat up and reluctantly reached for the tray.

"Thank you," he muttered, though he didn't feel thankful at all. She gave him a firm nod and headed back into her office.

Harry sighed and gave the food on the tray a quick scan, looking for anything that was even remotely healthy. He settled on a bowl of pasta and tentatively poked his fork into it. Grimacing, he watched the tips of the fork sink into the soft noodle. He half heartedly moved the food around, stirring it for no reason. Feeling a gaze on him, Harry looked up and saw the concerned frown of Madam Pomfrey observing him from her office. He gave her a big lopsided grin and raised his fork in the air as if to say hello, and the small piece of pasta still stuck to the fork dangled off the end before falling back into the bowl. She sighed, exasperated, and turned her head just as Harry saw the corner of her lips curve into a small smile.

Satisfied at distracting Pomfrey for the time being, he brought his attention back to the tray of food. It was impossible to not eat anything with Madam Pomfrey watching him like a hawk. Even though she was sitting with her back facing Harry, he knew that the witch would be able to tell if Harry had eaten or not. Though she seemed to have bought his excuse of stressing about the NEWTS, refusing to eat dinner would immediately set off alarm bells in the witch's head. Reluctantly, Harry stabbed the fallen pasta again with his fork and hesitantly brought it up to his mouth. His face warped into disgust as the small lump of food made it's way onto his tongue. He chewed slowly, thinking of all the calories and fats he was — _willingly!_ — putting into his body and shuddered at the thought. Finally after what seemed like forever, he gulped the food down and reached for his water. Throwing his head back, he chugged the entire contents of the goblet, welcoming the familiar coolness of the fresh and pure liquid.

 _Pure._

Harry liked that word. It reminded him of everything he was not, and everything he strived to be. Harry was never pure. Even as a child, he was polluted with all the evil and darkness of the world. At the measly age of 1, he was shown the dark powers of the world's most powerful wizard. And because of that, his parents were dead. Which led him to be cared for by his pathetic muggle relatives who beat him and abused him and starved him on a day to day basis. Harry guessed that that's where all of this stemmed up from. His sad excuse of a family. He shook his head.

 _No_.

No matter how much he wanted to blame others for his faults, he knew it was all him. If he had never been born, Voldemort wouldn't have gone after his parents and they could have been living a happy, normal life. If he had never been born, he wouldn't have been sent to the Dursley's after the death of James and Lily, and they could have gone on with their own lives, happily oblivious to the wizarding world.

Harry ruined everyone he met with a bit of his darkness, his _dirtiness._

Ron and Hermione never chose to be in the war against Voldemort. They were thrown into it, because of Harry. His happiness at finding friends his first year at Hogwarts was short lived when he realized he had tainted his best friends. Not to mention Ginny, Sirius, and even Draco bloody Malfoy. Ginny nearly got killed in his 2nd year, Sirius — his godfather, his only remaining family — died while fighting for Harry, and Malfoy, well Malfoy had always been nasty, but he reckoned if he had just accepted his bloody hand back in their 1st year, they wouldn't have had such a massive rivalry between them. Maybe they could have even been friends.

He snorted.

Well, it was much too late to offer a hand of friendship had to try his damn hardest to be _pure._ Harry refused to corrupt anyone else. Malfoy included.

He had been so lost in thought that he nearly flipped his tray of food over when he saw Madam Pomfrey staring down at him with her hands on her hips. She cleared her throat.

"Mister Potter, I do not wish to ask you again to eat your food." She inspected him intently for a moment before pointedly directing her eyes to the still full tray of food.

Harry looked up at her timidly and reached for his fork. Not wanting to cause another thorough check up of him from the mediwitch, he stabbed through three pastas and hesitantly placed them on his tongue. Wincing only slightly, he chewed thoughtfully and swallowed the food down with his water. Sensing Madam Pomfrey's sharp gaze still directed at him, he poked at a few more bits of pasta and put them into his mouth. Trying to ignore the clenching and unclenching of his stomach, he forced himself to swallow and again took another big gulp of his water. Seemingly satisfied, Madam Pomfrey shuffled her way back into her office, but not before glancing back at Harry. He gave her a small smile and made a big show of shoving the remaining bits of pasta into his mouth. As soon as the witch turned her back, Harry reached for the napkin on the end of his tray and hastily spat out the gross lumps of chewed up pasta. His stomach was already tightened uncomfortably, not used to having food in it, and Harry felt as if he was going to be sick right there in the infirmary.

"Er, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry shook his head out nervously, his hand tightening around his scrunched up napkin, now in the pocket of his robes. The witch stuck her head out of her office regarding Harry curiously.

"Could I go back to my dorm now? Dinner's over and I finished mine and you said I could leave as soon as I was done…" He trailed off, uncertain if the mediwitch was actually going to let him go. To his relief, she nodded.

"Of course. You wouldn't want to keep Mister Weasley and Miss Granger waiting."

Harry grinned. "Thanks Madam Pomfrey!" He quickly set the tray on his bedside table which promptly disappeared and he jumped out of bed. Feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden movement, he clutched onto the bed railing and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Harry was all too used to this. He slowly counted to ten before opening his eyes. With his dizziness leaving as quickly as it had come, he let go of the railing and looked around to make sure the witch didn't see him. Satisfied to see her still in her office, he headed towards the infirmary doors when he heard a small cough sound from behind him.

"Your wand, Mister Potter." Harry turned to see Madam Pomfrey sticking her head out of the doorway, his wand in one hand, as she gazed at Harry in amusement. He smiled at her sheepishly and went to grab the wand from her when she suddenly brought her hand back. He looked at her, startled, and opened his mouth to speak when she held up a hand and rose to her feet.

"Mister Potter," she paused. "Harry." She peered at him intently and Harry shifted from foot to foot, nervous about the sudden severity in her usually gentle blue eyes.

"Er... Yes?"

"Please do try to eat more. I realize you are busy with classes and homework and friends and NEWTS," she smiled softly at that and continued, "but as I've mentioned before, a growing boy must eat. I was not exaggerating earlier when I said you looked thin." She pursed her lips as Harry's mouth formed a small 'o', startled at the words that had come out of the witch's mouth. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Of course Madam Pomfrey." He tilted his head in understanding. "I'll have to tell Hermione I can't study that much with her anymore. Guess Ron and I can pig out in the Great Hall more often now." He smiled at her, the lie slipping easily off his tongue. She scrutinized him for a moment longer before smiling in return and handing his wand back to him.

"Good to hear. Right, run along now Mister Potter. Have a good night."

"Goodnight Madam Pomfrey." Harry gave a small wave and clutched his wand to his chest as he quickly strode out of the infirmary, sighing in relief when he was out of sight.

Now he had nothing to worry about except the pasta sitting heavily in his stomach. He walked hurriedly to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, knowing that no other student, well, no other _living_ student, would be in the lavatory. Feeling the all too familiar sensation of bile rising up his throat, he quickened his pace, barely making it to the first stall before vomiting inside the toilet. He vaguely heard the shrill giggles coming from above him, but paid it no mind as he raised two fingers and stroked the back of his throat, causing him to expel the rest of the contents of his stomach. He clutched the side of the toilet, eyes shut tight and watering slightly, as he repeated the motion. It was like second nature to him. He continued to stroke the back of his throat, ignoring the burning pain, and only stopped when he started to dry heave.

 _Finally._

It felt good to get the foreign substance out of his body. He was pure again.

Unsteadily standing up, he made his way to one of the sinks and turned the tap on. Cupping his hands together, he caught the flowing water and raised it to his mouth, swishing the liquid around before spitting it out into the sink. He repeated the motion, but instead used the cool water to splash his face. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. Harry frowned as he saw his own reflection. Had he always looked so sickly? Convinced that the mirror was playing tricks on him, he shut the tap off and adjusted his robes as he made his way to the door, stopping when he heard a small giggle from behind him.

"Oh Harry?" He slowly turned around to come face to face with Moaning Myrtle and he widened his eyes, taking an uneasy step back.

"Er, yes, Myrtle?"

She peered at him from behind her glasses with a sinister smile on her face. "You look good."

Harry, startled, blurted, "I do?"

Myrtle grinned gleefully before floating right next to Harry. He tensed as he felt the cool air right beside his ear. "Oh, yes. You look like _death."_ She let out a high pitched giggle and swiftly flew over a stall before diving into the toilet.

Harry froze, perturbed by her words, before he shook his head and reached for the door handle again letting himself out of the lavatory. As he made his way to Gryffindor Tower, he smiled softly to himself, replaying Myrtles words over and over again in his head.

 _You look good._

 _You look like death._

Stopping just outside of the Fat Lady, he let out an uneasy laugh and quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Fortuna Major."

The portrait swung open and he walked into the common room, waving at Dean and Seamus who were in the middle of a very intense game of Wizard's chess. Dean looked up and nodded at him before turning back to the game, swearing as one of his pawns got shattered.

Harry trudged his way up the stairs to the boys dormitory, happy to see it all to himself but also sad to see Ron's empty bed. He let out a small sigh. He was half expecting his red haired friend to be waiting for him, no doubt the news of his accident reaching every available ear at Hogwarts, but Ron was nowhere to be seen. Ron and Hermione had just recently gotten together and he imagined they were quite preoccupied with one another. Harry was happy for them, really he was, but he noticed that they were too caught up with each other to pay even the slightest bit of attention to him. It was all for the best really.

Letting out another sigh, he rummaged through his drawers, finding an oversized sweater and long drawstring sweats. He quickly stripped to just his boxers, shivering slightly as the cool air hit his skin, and slipped the warm sweater over his head. He awkwardly jumped into his bottoms and pulled them up, pulling the strings on his pants as tight as they would go. Despite it being only the first week of November, the air both inside and outside the castle was unseasonably chilly. The slightly warmer, Autumn air was briskly turning colder as Winter approached. He honestly wouldn't have been that surprised if he were to look out the window and see snow. According to the others, Hogwarts felt perfectly toasty, but Harry was always unnaturally cold.

Shuffling over to his bed, he drew the sheets back and crawled in, happy to get away from the chilly air. He set his glasses on his night table and closed the thick red curtains around his four poster bed. Warm and content, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of blonde hair and a pure Harry.


End file.
